Guilt
by Dana Rose
Summary: Set a few weeks after Will becomes captain of the Flying Dutchman. An important conversation between father and son.


**Guilt**

Nearly six weeks had passed since the Dutchman had received a new captain. Six weeks since Will Turner had stabbed the heart of Davy Jones, aided by Jack Sparrow. Six weeks had passed since first mate and father to the captain had been forced to cut out his own sons heart.

With a new captain on the Flying Dutchman, one who honored his duty to ferry the souls at sea to the other side, the crew had regained their humanity. Busy they had been these past few weeks, as Davy Jones had neglected his duty and as a result left numerous souls needing to be ferried by the Dutchman. The days were spent helping the unfortunate pass on, but when night came, so did the memories, and pain.

Will sighed as he stared at the calm sea, the stars overhead reflecting their light unto the still waters. He wondered how Elizabeth, his wife, was doing. _His wife_. The word still seemed so ... foreign, and with good reason. They had been married only minutes, hours, when he was taken from her. Yet, as his father pointed out during his first month of captaincy, it was better to dwell on the good rather than the bad. So, instead of allowing himself to sink into a state of loneliness and bitterness because of his ten year separation, Will thought of their last day on the beach when he missed Elizabeth. He thought of their future, of all the children they were sure to have. Elizabeth would be a great mother, he knew it. Besides, it was either ten years apart or his death, and quite frankly, he was grateful at his second chance at life.

There was another plus to being captain of the Flying Dutchman. His father. When he was a child he had dreamed of one day finding his father, and now they had ten years to make up for lost time. Like Jack had said, his father was a good pirate, and a good man. Every night Bootstrap would come to the captains quarters, where he and Will would talk, getting to know each other once again. Will had vague memories of his father from his childhood, and wanted for the two of them to regain the relationship they once had.

Bootstrap quietly walked up next to his son, placing a hand on his shoulder, alerting Will to his presense. Bootstrap was also thankful for the chance to be a father to his son once again. His _son_. His beautiful baby boy who had turned into this strong, outstanding man standing next to him. His son who had such a sense of honor that he was killed upholding his oath to free him from servitude under Jones. ' I don't know what I did to deserve you, my son, after all I've done to you, but I'm grateful for every day.' He thought to himself, eyes fixated on the scar on his chest. The scar where he had taken a knife and carved out his own childs heart. He shuddered at the thought. Six weeks later and still he could not forgive himself what he did. Yes, he knew it was what had to be done, but he couldn't count the nights this past month he had woken up in a cold sweat, after nightmares of seeing his son die before him. Of seeing him do what he did. And sometimes, when the nightmare was too real to shake off, he found himself coming into his sons quarters, just to make sure he was there, and that he was alright. When he did this, he would often catch a glimpse at the other scars on his son, also caused by his hand. Five crisscrossed lines on his back, caused by that blasted whip so long ago. With that new thought, he shuddered in shame once more. He hated himself for what he had done to his dear child, his little son, who wasn't so little anymore.

Will looked at his father and noticed, not for the first time, that he was lost in thought, with guilt clouding his blue eyes. Over the past weeks they'd spent together, they had grown closer, yet there was always that guilty look in his eyes. He had to wonder what it was for. While he himself had nothing to blame his father for, he knew that his father regretted something, but he always denied it when asked. Sadly, it could be a number of things bothering the elder Turner, or a combination of all things. Was is because Bootstrap wasn't there for his childhood? Will didn't blame him for that. It would be kind of hard to be a father while at the bottom of the ocean with cannons strapped to your boots. Was is because of that whipping Jones forced him to do? Will didn't blame him for that. Davy Jones was a cruel...man is not the right word...thing, and his father was far gentler than any crewmate Jones would have had do it. Besides, they had already talked about that, during their first real conversation. Was it because of the heart? Will didn't blame him for that. He was already dieing when Jack had helped him stab the heart, and besides, the ship needed a captain. It had to be done.

Will doubted his father saw these situations the way he did but so far his father wouldn't budge, and tell him what was bothering him. ' I suppose he's where I get my stubbornness from.' Will thought dryly. Following his fathers sad gaze to his chest, he noticed the scar showing from the top of his shirt. ' So that's it.' He saw his father give a shudder, guilt more evident in his gaze than ever and silently said ' This ends tonight.'

Gripping his fathers hand on his shoulder and pulling him out of his thoughts, he said "Lets go back to my quarters. It's getting late." So they left the deck and headed down to the captains quarters. As they made themselves comfortable in his rooms, Will decided that being upfront was the best way to start this off, as he had tried so many times. This time he wouldn't stop until he convinced his father he was not at fault.

"Father," he said, using the term he only used when the rest of the crew was gone, when it was just them two, "why do you blame yourself?" Bootstrap looked at his son and sighed. How many times were they going to do this?

"Blame myself for what, son?" He answered back with a question.

Will tilted his head and gazed disappointedly at the man sitting across him. "You tell me." He said, making eye contact and wondering why on earth his father had to be so pigheaded and keep everything to himself.

"I don't know what you are talking about Will." He most certainly did, but he did not want to have this conversation with his son. Unfortunately for him, his son had noticed his guilt right away and ever since had been trying to get him to talk. It would just cause a fight, and he did not want his son angry at him. ' Even though', he thought, ' he has every right to be. I deserve to have him hate me.'

Will looked away, annoyed and slightly hurt. He pressed on. "Don't you trust me?" he asked, taking this conversation in a different direction. Bootstrap felt his eyes widen and answered,

"Of course I do. What does.." he cut off as Will stood up and sat next to him, dark eyes looking into his desperately.

"Then why do you lie to me Papa?" Will asked, using the term for the first time since his childhood. Bootstrap had to blink back tears. Will hadn't called him that in so many years. It sounded wonderful. He shook his head in response, preparing to deny it.

"Papa please," he heard his son say. "Please tell me what's wrong. It hurts to see you act like this." Bootstrap took one look into his sons face and hated himself even more. Could he do nothing but cause his child pain!

"That's the problem!" He growled angrily, standing up swiftly. "I'm a terrible father! Everything I do I hurt you. It seems all I do is cause you pain. You were better off without me in your life."

Will stood as well and looked at his father, keeping his voice cool, he said "Could you please be more specific."

"I'm a terrible father William. I missed out on almost all of your childhood, and when your mother died you were young and all alone. Because of me! Because of me, our first meeting in around fifteen years consisted of me whipping you in front of an entire crew! Because of me, you died! If you hadn't been so intent about freeing me from Jones, and keeping your oath to me, then you wouldn't have been killed! It's all because of me. What kind of father am I? I carved out my own sons heart! You have no idea what it's like to watch your son die in front of you, and know it was your fault. How could you possibly forgive me for all the things I've done to you." Bootstrap finished his rant, having started off yelling and ending in a whisper. Will stared sadly. Was this truly how he felt? He walked over until he was standing close to his father.

"Look at me." He said quietly, urging his father with his eyes to do so. "Please look at me." Reluctant blue eyes met brown. "You are not a terrible father. All the memories I have of you from my childhood are good. You were a fantastic father. No, you were not there for most of my childhood, but that was because you had honor and objected to the mutiny to Jack on the Pearl. As for our reunion, Jones was cruel and used your love for me against you. You didn't want to do what you did, and you tried to stop it from happening. Had you not taken that whip yourself, I would have been in worse shape than I was afterwards. And yes, I made an oath to you that I would not rest until I freed you from your curse. That was my choice and I do not regret it. Truthfully, I would have rather Jack stab the heart and free you himself, but with that wound I received from Jones there was no other way." Will paused his speech, thinking what next he should say and how to say it best. "Yes you did carve out my heart, there is no denying that. The Dutchman must have a captain and it had been done. It was either by you or another member of the crew, but either way it had to be done." Will was quiet once again and after a moment he finished, whispering, "I know that I have no idea what it's like watching your son die in front of you, and I hope I never will, but it was not under any circumstances your fault. I do not believe that you owe me an apology, but I will give you forgiveness if that's what you seek." Bootstrap was silent for awhile, taking everything in. Will kept his eyes on him, inwardly begging him to believe what he said and take the forgiveness he offered. Anything to give his father peace of mind. Slowly, Bootstrap nodded.

"You forgive me?" He asked hoarsely, needing to make sure. Will nodded quickly, placing his hands on the elders shoulders. Bootstrap smiled, a huge weight seemingly lifted off his shoulders. A few tears leaked out of his eyes, but he just brushed them away before grabbing his son in a tight hug. Will hugged him back just as tightly, glad to have put this behind them. It had taken six weeks, but now, they could finally put the past behind them and look to the future.


End file.
